Tag Archive | poem

109. Holes


There’s a hole in my chest where my heart ought to be 
There’s a hole in my head where my mind ought to be 
There’s a hole in my body where my womb ought to be 
Where’s my soul?
Where’s my soul? 

There’s a silence in this world where sound ought to be 
There’s a violence in this world where peace ought to be 
There’s a grievance in this world where love ought to be 
Where’s your soul?
Where’s your soul?

There’s nobody beside me where you ought to be 
There’s just darkness around me where light ought to be
Let my life have hope as it ought to be 
Make my soul 
Once more whole

©Brindology 2017 & simplyjes
©Original artwork by simplyjes


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108. I am silenced

I am silenced
I am proud woman no more
My naked feet stand on cold grey stone
My eyes are cast towards hell below

My voice is broken
My spirit torn
My shacked feet can walk no more
I am a woman forlorn

Dispirited heart
Break no more please
Crushed beyond words
No sound passes my lips

I may die now
You will never know how
Shame is all I have
My head must hang low and bow

Forgiveness is not for me
The lesson cannot be discharged
I am not victorious in this battle
I am prisoner to my heart

©Brindology 2017

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107. 44 Tomorrow 

It is my birthday tomorrow, 
I bid goodbye to my sorrow, 
I can wring my tears right out
Of my badly bruised heart, 

It is my birthday tomorrow, 
I bid bye to my sorrow,
I can look forward to
A fantastic new start

To life, 
In all its wonder, 
To the end of
All strife, 

It is my birthday tomorrow, 
I bid goodbye to my sorrow, 
I’ve battled so hard 
To get to today, 

It is my birthday tomorrow, 
I bid goodbye to my sorrow, 
I’m alive! Alive! 
Hip hip hooray!

©Brindology 2013

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106. The future is here

When does the future occur, 
Tell me when?

When does this present moment
Come to its end? 

When does time
Stop and stand? 

When will we walk
Hand in hand?

©Brindology 2014

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105. Open window

And if I knew what life had in store for me, 
would I still march forward? 
Would my courage falter,
wither,
and die?

Why have our paths crossed? 
Which one of us is standing at the crossroads?

I write these words as I sit beside the open window.
The darkness is interrupted by the flashy lights of an awakening city. 

Beside me lies a lady.
Her family is gathered around her —
perhaps to say their final farewell. 
Tears are too private for public display,
sometimes.

Whispers travel far in this silenced hospital ward. 
Everyone is falling asleep around me, but I am wide awake.

The window is open.

©Brindology 2017

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104. Life is short

Life is short. 

How often do we hear this?
Sometimes death etches a scar so terribly deep that no amount of rain can wash it away. 

Life is short. 

Love, just love. 
Love others. 
Love yourself. 
We come into this world alone and we leave it alone, but we are not alone while we are alive. 

Please be kind to one another and to yourself. 

Remember, life is short.

©Brindology 2015

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103. Broken promises

Your voice filled my mind today. 
Your voice from so very long ago. 
Your voice that once spoke to my heart. 
Your voice that used to say how much you loved me. 

If we met now, would we recognise each other? 
Or would we keep walking past and away without a sorry glimpse into our history? 

Your hair must be grey now. 
There must be wrinkles running deep into your handsome face. 
There must be remnants of that love you once had for me buried somewhere in your heart. 
That love, before it turned into hate. 
That love, before it became someone else’s. 

I can’t say I still love you.
I know, I promised. 
But you broke your promise, too. 

I want to put out the light. 
I want to close my eyes and forget you. 
I want to be sure my heart doesn’t love you anymore. 

©Brindology 2016

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102. The child sees it all

the husband, the wife
the father, the mother 
once there was love
now they’re just strangers

the child watches them
with anger and disgust,
for they’ve broken her trust
and turned love to dust

they were having a fight –
her first memory,
when they’re finally gone 
is that all that she’ll see?

consumed by such hate
bitterness is their fate,
they say that they care
but they curse and they swear

there is no end in sight
no end to this strife 
the father, the mother
the husband, the wife 

©Brindology 2017

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100. Death mask

This is my death mask.
I can no longer see who I am.

She sits beside the water,
Looking down at her reflection.
Fingertips break the stillness of the water.
Her face travels to the edge,
Close to her feet. 

Ripples aren’t always silent.

The flowers fall slowly 
Yet the tree remains standing in the distance.
One moves,
The other does not.
The child goes far,
Beyond the travelling footsteps of the father.

Ripples aren’t always silent. 

The water is still once more.
She turns away from the dark pond,
And looks to the sky.
Merciless sunlight bathes her face.
She struggles to stand.
Pausing,
She breathes deeply,
Resting her hands on the wet soil for comfort.

This is my death mask.
I wish I knew who I’ve been. 

©Brindology 2017

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